Good in Goodbye
by monkeygirl77
Summary: In order to fight the Darkness, now that God is weakened from Her attack on Him, they need to help of the four archangels. But after everything He's put them through, will they be willing to help, when it's Him who needs them this time.


**AN: Still in that fic dump. Don't know if I'll continue it! What do you think?**

There was not much they could do, the Darkness was everything and nothing. She was as she said she was, the beginning and the end. God was powerful, sure, the Light and Life and all that, but against her he was of equal standing.

By himself, it was like fighting the different side of the same coin. They knew the others strength and the others weakness.

So when Chuck went up against her the first time around (technically the second but at this point no one was keeping track) he knew that it was a long shot to defeat her, to lock her up once more, despite Sam agreeing to take the Mark again he knew that in the grand scheme, that one minor slip up would give her the upper hand.

And there had been more then one final slip up.

He had tried to reason with her, talk to her, instead of simply fighting her. He still loved her after all this time and that was his greatest weakness. So when she did take it and gain the upper hand it was no underestimation. He knew as soon as he had lost this battle.

She raised her hand and he was lifted from the floor, his entire being hurt, as if he was being burned from the inside out. He was choking, he was dying, he was fading, and he could feel each and every agonizing moment of it much all too real.

She was going to kill him.

"I'd die a million times and murder you a million more before going back there! Tell me...if you won't change, why should I?"

When she released him, everyone else, basically just Sam and Dean, watching in mute horror as he fell to the floor, still, unmoving.

For once in his life, Dean Winchester was speechless, he had nothing to say to this, nothing was coming to mind. Chuck had been very admandant that Amara was to survive, she could not be killed, the balance relied on it. And yet, it looked as though she had done what he had refused.

"Amara, what have you done?"

Sam rushed forward if not more then a inch before stalling in his tracks as Amara turned to look at them both.

"He's dead. God's dead."

She sneered in anger, clearly not as forgiving as her brother was, "No. He's dying. My brother will dim... and fade away into nothing. But not until He sees what comes next. Not until He watches this world, everything He created, everything He loves turn to ash. Welcome to the end."

And she was gone in a swirl of dark smoke. Leaving them with what the assumed was either Cas or Lucifer, or both, hopefully, and God. The Apocalypse had never been much more preferred than in this moment.

Being 'killed' was surprisingly dull.

One moment she was seething, her power harming his, the dark eating the light.

And the next he was slowly opening his eyes, painful at the dim light in the warehouse they had taken refuge in to fight his sister, he was undeniably sore at the moment. He was dying, he could feel it, fading until he was nothing and with the end of him came the end of everthing.

Dean was over by Castiel, he squinted painfully at the angel, he was alone and that was not good. Lucifer was still alive, somewhere, he would have known had she killed him, but whether that was a good thing that she hadn't was left to be seen.

It was sad, but it was true.

Sam was hurrying towards him, helping him sit up. Taking a moment he didn't have, he realized that maybe not all his creation were bitter disappointments. Any other would have run after witnessing God himself be defeated, but not these two.

Either they were both incredibaly stupid.

Or they were both incredibly brave.

Could be both.

"Are you, ug...H-How do you feel?"

He grimaced, it was a dumb question. How did the human think he felt? He was dying, had Amara not told them so? 'How do you feel?' that had to be one of the dumbest questions he had ever allowed to be thought of.

Of course he was not alright!

"You know when you're driving and a bug hits your windshield? I'm the bug."

Sam nodded, seemingly understanding the stupidity behind his question but in the same thought seemingly ignored it as well.

Most interesting.

It was at the moment like this that he was regretting not listening to his children's prayers. Sure, they needed to learn to fend for themselves but Gabriel had been right. Was it the right thing to simply cut them off cold turkey?

They _were _His children.

He was also regretting not bothering to help Lucifer, and Michael, and Raphael, and the rest of them all.

Dying must do this to people.

Everything they did at this point was futile. While the plan to blow Amara up with souls was a good one it would still reap the same results, the end was near and there was nothing anyone could do at this point. Not this time.

"I am powerless against her, I cannot fight her, not in this state, not alone."

Dean spared him a glance, his alcohol level surprisingly high and equally so was the impressive way he seemed to be able to handle himself while under such influences. Everyone had their way of coping though, and if that was his then power to him.

"Then what other choice do we have? Give me something to kill, shoot, fight and I'm there, every time! But how do we fix _God _and defeat His _Sister_! If you have _any _better ideas then I'm all ears buddy!"

Sam shot his brother a disapproving look at the way he spoke to the Heavenly Father, a warning if Chuck ever saw one. Any other time he would have been angry, wrathful, at having been spoken to in such a manner. He would have destroyed the Hunter in ways he could never even begin to imagine. But being this powerless and low was really opening his eyes for him.

He was, had been, such an ass.

"The last time I fought her I had help"

Sam caught on quickly, the observant brother, "You said you had the Archangels? You also said that Gabriel and Raphael were dead, and that it would take time we didn't have to bring them back what with them being made of primordial matter, or something like that, and that Michael was in no condition to fight for us, Lucifer was our only shot and he's dead"

Chuck nodded, his head spinning on itself, closing his eyes for a moment to catch himself once more before responding.

"Lucifer is not dead."

That drew in some breaths.

"He is at large, most likely searching for a vessel. A problem for another time. Yes, I did have My Archangels to help last time, and yes, I did say that it would take too long to bring Raphael and Gabriel back, and as for what they were made of, cosmic power, they were Mine"

"We get it Chuck, you made them."

He shook his head at the elder Hunter, "No, they were _Mine, _part of _Me_, if I were to ever have any true children, it would be them. Amara was right when she said that I made them for ego, for I did, but she was not completely right..."

He trailed off for a moment, his eyes misting up a bit but went unmentioned by the other two.

"I could start with Raphael and Michael, seeing as the world is about to end, we have all the time we need now."

Dean put his bottle down on the table with a hard crack, standing defensively, "If you think-"

"Michael will not need a vessel this time, I will ensure that, compact his form and such, too much to explain at the moment."

"And what if they smite us?"

"You remember how I had control over Lucifer's powers? I may be weakened at the moment but they are still a part of me I can control them. Revoke their free will and such as I see fit."

Sam noticed, of course, how he had failed to mention bringing Gabriel back confused as to the unmentioned, but left it as Chuck had left it.

Untouched.

Blowing his sister up became plan number two.

Opening the cage this time around was nothing like it was the first time. There was no keys, no swirling massive winds, no gaping hole in the ground sucking in everything around it. This was nothing like the time where Sam had accidentally been tricked into releasing Lucifer, however the same sense of foreboding doom was there still.

On the other hand, they also didn't have the one who had created the cage there either.

Chuck had drawn a rune on a piece of ancient paper he had torn from the back of an old edition bible. Cut his hand open with a knife, a single slice down the center of his palm, and let his blood drip onto the page. Sam was stunned at the type of substance seeping from his wounded hand, it was almost a pale gold, shimmering like small stars and burning fires. His blood filled the pen markings of the rune, glowing once before smoldering.

There was a small gust of wind, and in the middle of the room stood a man that reminded them of their father from when they had had Castiel transport them through time.

He looked startled at his new surroundings, his clothes burned and singed in some parts. Although Chuck had promised to keep him under control having Michael in the bunker with them still had Sam and Dean on edge, they hadn't actually ended last time on goo terms.

"So, you have finally decided to return Father," The Archangel's tone was stiff, hard, "And you've only released me because you are in need of my help, isn't that right Father?"

Well this was somewhat but not really unexpected, the last time they had seen him Michael had been all for doing Daddy's bidding, but this time around something was different. Sam had known that the cage had changed people, hell it had made him go insane for a time, but he had never imagined what it might do to an angel, especially one of Michael's caliber.

"We _will _talk about this later," Chuck replied, no longer sounding like a dying man, but like a man whom was full of unbridled power and rage that would be devastating to release onto the world, he did not sound like the simple man he looked like but an actual God. Michael nodded, glaring at his father, but did not move from his spot. Chuck took it as it was and turned to the other side of the Archangel.

Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers (Dean was well aware that that was most likely where the other angels got it from; Apple and Tree complex) next to Michael another man appeared. He was younger then the first but clearly not the youngest. He looked around much like Michael had, glaring at the seraph and hunters before turning his attention back towards his Father.

Stepping forward stiffly, he reached a hand out, and slapped Chuck across the face.

The smack echoed clearly through the silent bunker. Sam and Dean watching in awe, as the clearly stronger man's head swung around in after shock. The archangel glared at him harshly, breathing heavily through his nose. Michael, completely out of his character, applauded his younger brother.

"We may have been disappointments as children, but you were an even bigger disappointment as a Father"

They watched as Chuck slowly turned back around, rubbing at his reddening cheek, waiting on baited breath for him to do something in return.

Nothing happened.

Not like they had expected.

"We will talk about this, _later_."

Chuck peeked into the room the two Archangels had retreated to.

Sam had snorted when he saw where Michael had taken them, at least it was Dean sleeping on the couch this time.

The Healing Angel was trying to right the wronged feathers on his older brothers wings but was having difficulties getting them to right themselves. Hell did a number on an angel's wings and he found himself feeling bad for what had happened to his eldest son. He sighed heavily, pushing the door open slightly and stepping inside. The glares shot his way were as hostile as he had expected them to be.

Michael groaned as he fluffed his wings up in threatening sort of anger before sagging downwards in pain.

They both watched him silently as he took a seat next to the resurrected Archangel and tentatively reached out with his hands. Michael recoiled at the feeling of his fingers in his feathers, but he merely run his fingers through the feathers, righting the ones that needed it and healing the small incisions when he found them.

"Do you remember, when you were a mere fledgling, and you had turned your first eon, you had gotten cake under all your little feathers and it took me at least three hours to get them all clean once more?"

Michael snorted, it was the harshest sound he had ever heard, "But in light of recent discoveries, I wonder, was the affection you shared back then real Father? Or another lie?"

Maybe he deserved that. Raphael snorted from beside him this time, he turned to look at him.

"It would not surprise me Brother, how well do we _really _know him?"

He sighed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. They had every right to be angered at him, to be hostile, to be resentful. He had left them for ignorant reasons, with a ruined family and a world to run. Brushing his fingers up under the primaries, Raphael withdrew his hands silently watching his Father work instead. They sat in silence for a long time neither of the three willing to be the first to speak.

Call him a coward if you must.

"I know your mad-"

"Mad? Oh no Father we are not mad! What ever gave you that idea?"

Reigning in his temper at such disrespect being tossed in his direction Chuck took a deep breath to calm himself and sent Raphael a look of warning to mind his tone to which the Archangel merely snorted bitterly.

"But it'll get better. We can fix it. I'll fix it."

"Why? If we are such disappointments for you?"

Chuck took a breath as he brushed a few fingers under Michael's tender wing and the Archangel jolted in pain. He was quick in grabbing his shoulders to keep him from moving too much too far.

"You did not know but seeing as the end is neigh now there is no room for secrets. You had always asked why your Aunt had not liked you as children. Why she would fight about you and curse you and such and the answer in itself is as simple as it is complicated."

"We are smarter then you give us credit for."

Nodding he continued, "Before anything there was us. Light and Dark. Me and Amara. We lived together in harmony all the other needed to survive and thrive. Two sides of the same coin. But then I wanted more. I wanted something that was my own and not shared with my sister. And so I created you. But in creating you I used parts of myself and that was something she could not stand for in her eyes I was replacing her with you four. When I had made you got to hold you I fell in love with you each and every one of you each and every time. And she got angrier and angrier every moment vowing to destroy you to get back to how it was meant to be. And when I choose you over her it was the last straw."

His hands moved onward to more pained areas.

"How could I not though. You see you are not just made in my image by my hand. You were made _by _me. In every one of you four there is a piece of me. You are Mine. A part of my core. Her hatred runs deep because you are my Son's. My own."

They absorbed this quickly, "So...We are...Part of you?"

"Yes."

Lucifer had found a vessel a week later, appearing in their living room wearing the same man he had worn the first time around. His anger had rivaled Michaels.


End file.
